Chapter 26

They landed in an empty alleyway, a place with hardly any people and almost no light.

It seemed like just over a hundred meters ahead, beyond the alley, things livened up. Separated by only one street, Meng Bai could hear the sounds of bustle.

That was Night Market Street.

Of course, back then, Meng Bai had no real idea what a night market was.

What concerned her more was—

“What if I go out there? What about you?”

She knew Miao Bai disliked bright lights, and the streets outside were lit up with glaring incandescent bulbs.

“I’ll wait here for you.” Miao Bai pulled a thick wad of cash from her pocket. “Buy whatever you want to eat.”

The stack of red bills made Meng Bai shake her head hurriedly. “Too much—way too much.”

Truth be told, she’d rarely even held a hundred-yuan note, let alone a whole bundle of them. And really, how much could a few snacks cost?

“What’s there to worry about?” Miao Bai looked down at her. “This money’s clean. Take it and spend it.”

Meng Bai wasn’t suspicious about its origins; she just thought it was an awful lot. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “How about just a hundred? I’ll grab some things and come right back.”

“Fine.” Miao Bai peeled off a single hundred-yuan bill and handed it over, her indifference to the money making her seem extravagantly generous.

Where on earth had she gotten so much cash? Meng Bai had no clue.

“Anything you’d like me to get you?”

“Nothing. Get what you like.”

“Oh! I’m off, then!”

Meng Bai turned and headed for the alley’s mouth, every step laden with unfamiliarity.

The teeming market around the corner was virgin territory for her, and curiosity tugged at her about what lay beyond.

To her, the city itself was an enormous question mark—a place without form or image in her mind.

As her footsteps brought her closer, the clamor sharpened in her ears.

The instant she stepped out of the alley, blinding light flooded over her.

Meng Bai squinted, still blinking it away, when her nose caught the aroma first.

It smelled incredible.

The long street was flanked on both sides by food stalls. The sizzle of hot oil mingled with the spice of cumin, and the sight of those skewered bites made her stomach growl louder.

“Iron plate squid! Iron plate squid! Ten yuan for five skewers—twenty for ten! No regrets, no heartbreak!”

“Fried potatoes! Fried potatoes! Tasty and cheap—the best deal around!”

Food everywhere, an overwhelming feast for the eyes.

“Octopus balls—delicious, delicious!” One vendor locked eyes on Meng Bai and beckoned her over. “Hey, little miss, want to try our house specialty?”

Meng Bai felt shy and out of place, but she tried to play it cool, like she’d been here before.

The man seemed friendly enough, so she nodded.

She’d never tried these before—not even sure what an octopus looked like—and yet the balls were nearly done without a glimpse of one.

Meng Bai took the small box of octopus balls and meandered through the market, picking up a few other treats along the way.

She spent frugally, though, too cautious to splurge; everything struck her as pricey.

She wandered like a sightseer, mindful that Miao Bai was waiting, before doubling back along the same path.

Novelty and delight filled her, but something was missing.

She mulled it over the whole way.

It wasn’t until she slipped back into the alley that it hit her: a sense of freedom.

After so long in the Small Town, this first taste of the city—even if only its fringes—felt profoundly alien. Everyday sights and flavors to everyone else required endless deliberation from her.

Unease shadowed her every step, a timid flutter, an inexpressible anxiety.

In that moment, a pang of loss stirred in her chest.

She’d seen so little of the world.

A few paces in, Miao Bai’s voice sounded nearby.

“What’s wrong?”

Meng Bai jerked her head up, startled to find herself already midway down the alley. “N-nothing.”

She held out the two boxes of food for Miao Bai to see, her other hand clutching the change, eager to hand it back.

But Miao Bai didn’t take it.

“Hold on to the money for me.” Her gaze settled on the paper containers. “What’d you get? Octopus balls?”

“Yeah.” Meng Bai pressed her lips together, admitting honestly, “Never had them before.”

“Go ahead and try one.”

Meng Bai speared a ball with the bamboo skewer and held it tentatively to Miao Bai’s mouth. “You first.”

Miao Bai paused for a beat.

Truthfully, she didn’t need to eat at all.

But there was the octopus ball, right at her lips, delivered by Meng Bai’s trembling little hand—likely braced for rejection.

Ever perceptive, Miao Bai couldn’t bring herself to turn her down.

So she parted her lips and took a small bite.

The moment the sauce brushed Miao Bai’s mouth, Meng Bai’s lips curved into a smile.

“What’s it like? Good?”

Miao Bai licked her lips, offering neither nod nor shake of the head. “A little sweet.”

“Oh! Perfect—I love sweet things!” With that, Meng Bai popped the bitten half into her own mouth.

She chewed with pure delight.

“So good. I think it’s really good.”

Naturally, it beat steamed buns by miles.

Miao Bai watched her munch away like a little squirrel, and a sudden fullness bloomed in her own heart.

Perhaps it was this: satisfying the one you wished to satisfy brought satisfaction in turn.

“Eat slowly.”

“Okay.” Meng Bai tore open the second box. “Spring roll? You want one?”

“No, you have it.”

“Then I will—I’m starving.”

“Go ahead. No rush.”

Faced with Miao Bai, Meng Bai shed her earlier stiffness and dug in with gusto.

The alley lay silent and shadowed, a vast darkness that wrapped them in security.

“Miao Bai, just one more bite?”

“No thanks.” She wasn’t into it—seemed like kid food.

Meng Bai didn’t press, too wrapped up in her hunger and the joy of eating.

There in the dim alley, the air rich with savory scents, Miao Bai watched Meng Bai without blinking, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Eat slowly.” Spotting sauce on Meng Bai’s mouth, she reached out and wiped it away with her fingertip. “No hurry—chew it properly.”

Her finger grazed Meng Bai’s lip, and Meng Bai pulled back shyly. “I’ll get it. You’ll dirty your hand.”

“It’s nothing.”

Miao Bai still wiped the sauce off.

“Enough to eat?”

“Enough.”

“Want to buy more to take back for tomorrow?”

“No need.” At that point, Meng Bai couldn’t help adding, “It’s already plenty.”

“Want to stroll somewhere else?”

Meng Bai hesitated, worried it might trouble Miao Bai. “Is that okay?”

Miao Bai nodded. “Of course.”

~~~

Fairies were fairies, after all.

When she said she’d let you experience it all, she meant every last bit.

As night fell and the city’s ring river slipped into slumber, with the streets emptying out, the two of them strolled slowly through unfamiliar alleys.

Skyscrapers towered overhead, neon lights buzzed with life, and countless signposted roads stretched on endlessly, seemingly without end.

A gentle night breeze carried the scent of autumn, sweet floral fragrances drifting into their noses, filling them with utter contentment.

Meng Bai’s first nighttime promenade was with Miao Bai.

Even back then, the phrase hadn’t existed in her vocabulary.

They kept walking, venturing into areas with fewer and fewer people, until they found a wide expanse of straight, endless asphalt road, leading who-knew-where. It didn’t matter—they just pressed on.

In the early hours of the morning, streetlights glowed every thirty meters or so.

The light was sometimes dim, sometimes bright.

Whenever they stepped into darkness, Miao Bai stayed right by her side. And when the surroundings brightened, Miao Bai became the Invisible Person.

Meng Bai glanced down at her own toes, watching her shadow merge with Miao Bai’s, a wave of emotion washing over her.

“Miao Bai.”

“Hm?”

Miao Bai’s voice was like the night breeze itself—soft and gentle.

“Why did you show up in my life?”

It was the question Meng Bai had always wanted to ask.

The gulf between her and Miao Bai felt like summer snow, or salt stirred into sweet soda: mismatched, illogical.

“Surprised?” Miao Bai blinked, whispering, “If I exist in this world, I’m bound to cross paths with someone. It just so happens to be you.”

“Will we keep crossing paths forever?” Meng Bai stopped abruptly, her gaze locking onto Miao Bai’s face. The thick veil of night blended Miao Bai’s beauty into a living painting, like a pigment-soaked brush flung across the sky. She drew in a deep breath, and it seemed the entire world carried Miao Bai’s scent.

Miao Bai looked puzzled. “Keep crossing paths?”

“I mean, will you always be part of my life.” Meng Bai’s expression grew deadly serious. “I read it in some book once: the more wondrous something is, the faster it fades.”

Miao Bai burst out laughing—she must have understood.

“You’re asking if I’ll die.” Even talking about death, Miao Bai remained eerily calm. “Of course I will.”

Meng Bai frowned. “You’ll die too?”

“The day I no longer want to exist in this world, I’ll vanish.”

Oh. That day felt impossibly distant, but the mere thought was terrifying.

Meng Bai wished she lived in a fairy tale.

She longed for that kind of perfect vision—at least in this moment, in this very second, she wanted Miao Bai to exist in the world forever.

As a friend, or in any form at all.

“You little kid, why overthink it?” Miao Bai said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

They’d reached the pool of light beneath a streetlamp, where Miao Bai turned transparent, invisible.

Meng Bai quickened her pace into the shadows, and Miao Bai reappeared.

“Talk about what?”

“Your future.”

“My future? Oh, you know: get into university, land a job, make some money, bring Mom and Dad to the city.” Meng Bai furrowed her brow, then blurted, “Oh, right—can I just skip dating altogether?”

Miao Bai blinked in surprise. “Huh? Why?”

“Because I can’t picture myself liking any guy.” Meng Bai’s face was earnest. “Can’t a person live perfectly fine on their own?”

That’s how she truly felt. Everyone back in town said marriage and kids were a woman’s lot in life, but after mulling it over, Meng Bai suspected something was off.

She had zero desire to get married or have children.

“And guys are so gross and stinky!” She wrinkled her nose. “Get too close, and bam—sweat stench!”

Miao Bai couldn’t hold back her laughter. “You can, of course you can skip it. It’s your choice.”

Meng Bai recalled their earlier conversation—the one that had shocked her to her core.

“But Miao Bai, you said you’ve been in love before—”

“Yeah, so?”

She desperately wanted to ask why, but rephrased it instead:

“What kind of guy would you even like?”

Meng Bai knew she was being nosy.

“Guy?” Miao Bai’s brow creased, a flicker of distaste in her eyes. “I’ve never dated a guy.”

She knew Meng Bai would bring up the eunuch thing next.

“And no, not a eunuch either.”

“Huh?” Meng Bai was utterly baffled. “Then what?”

Miao Bai saw no reason to hide it. “Not a guy—of course, a woman.”

“A woman!!!” It hit Meng Bai like a thunderbolt. “How do women even date women?!”